Forever In Extremis
by Adorelo
Summary: One horrific crime. One old friend. One hidden relationship. EC
1. One

_Title: Forever in Extremis_

_Author: Jodie_

_Special thanks: To Kazalene for all her help with this. Couldn't have done it without you._

_Notes: This has been buzzing around my head for a while now. I wanted to do something a bit different for me, without abandoning my dear EC. So, here we have it._

* * *

Chapter one

The strong Carolina sun cast welcoming shadows across the dusty yard. The man stood beside two bags considering the irony of it, trying to keep the pain from his eyes as he realized it would be a while before he welcomed her here again.

"Daddy, I don't wanna go home again!" Aimee cried, shaking her blond head frantically. Joseph glanced down into his daughter's baby-blue eyes and felt his heart break once more. "I wanna stay with you, daddy."

Joe took his child's hand, tugging the five-year-old onto his lap. "I know you do, angel, but your mommy wants you to go back home with her. You can come visit next holiday." He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair for the last time. It killed him to let her go home, but the deal he and his ex had agreed upon was set - Joseph would see Aimee at the holidays, and she would stay with Larissa for the rest of the year.

"But I don't like Russia," she complained. Joe simply smiled, unwilling to have the same argument with her again. Placing her hand into her mother's, Joe smiled at her one last time. "Bye," the child murmured tearfully, clinging to her father's hand until the very last moment.

As Larissa closed the car door behind her daughter, she glanced to her ex-boyfriend. "Thanks, Joe," she said, her Russian accent thicker than ever. "She always has a great time with you."

Joe nodded, biting his lip as things got to that awkward stage again. Months apart left them both refreshed -- neither really thought of the other-- but being thrown back together again caused the tension between them to rise again. "I should… I should go." She tossed her strawberry hair over her shoulders, smiling up at the blue orbs in front of her. Larissa lifted up on her tiptoes, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his lips. "Goodbye Joseph," she whispered.

"Bye, he replied, scratching his head through his dark hair. He waved at the small hand that appeared at the back window, keeping his hand in the air until they rounded a corner.

Joe sighed, glancing at his watch. With his daughter gone, it was time to catch his plane.

-/-

Entering the MDPD lobby, Joe shielded his eyes against the beams of sunlight that streamed through the glass as he searched out his target. "Miss Duquesne; long time no see," he called out down the corridor of the MDPD crime lab.

Calleigh turned on her heel, letting out an excited gasp when she saw the man in front of her. Leaving Ryan and Eric behind her, she skipped over, wrapping her arms around the man in the black suit. "AJ!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing down in Miami?"

Joe hugged her back, smiling widely at her excitement before releasing her. "That serial killer that's been buggin' you guys? Your boss called me in to assist," he commented, accent thickening in the presence of a fellow southerner. "I've completed my research into ritualistic homicide now, figured I could be a bit of help." He laughed at her big smile and raised eyebrow. "South Carolina can manage without me for a while." He continued when Calleigh let go of his arm; her smile never faltering. "You gonna introduce me to your friends?" he commented, noticing the two men still waiting for the blond.

"Guys, this is Joseph Donahue. He's a Behavioral Analysist." Calleigh motioned him forward. "Joe, this is Eric and Ryan, my colleagues." She watched with a smile as the men shook hands.

"Kinda like a profiler?" Ryan asked, frowning at the snort Eric gave.

"Close. I construct profiles… isn't my title, though," Joe answered, casting his eyes back to Calleigh.

"So, have you got the case files?" Eric asked, taking a long look at the dark haired man before him; trying to profile the profiler -- even if it wasn't his title -- perhaps wasn't a good idea. Especially when he seemed so close to Calleigh.

"Right here," he said, tapping the case he carried. Calleigh nodded, gesturing that they should continue down the hall.

"How's Aimee?" she queried. It had been a long time since she had last spoken to AJ; in fact, his daughter had just been born when they had last met up. They'd known each other since before college, and time never seemed to pass between them.

"She's great; just gone back with her mother," he replied and Calleigh didn't miss the flash of pain behind his blue orbs. She nodded anyway, waiting for them to gather around the glass table. "We'll catch up later, okay?" he asked, sending her that sign that he didn't want to discuss it right now. So she let it go, giving him an understanding wink.

"So where'd you wanna start?" she questioned, motioning for Eric to begin going over the case details when she received a playful shrug.

Eric stalled, casting an uncertain glance to this 'AJ' guy who had just swanked into the lab. Eric hadn't missed the wink that Calleigh had shot him - the pang still ran through his veins, though he knew his jealousy was unfounded. "Erm, the death count hit five last night. All female prostitutes, all seem to have gone with our guy willingly. He's conspicuous; no one saw anything."

Joe nodded. "Were all the bodies found in public places?" he asked, skimming the notes. He had all the files except for the most recent victim.

"Yeah, all public places but hidden; latest was dumped at the side of a restaurant, covered with cardboard."

"Remorse," Joe muttered to himself. "What about your forensic whatsits?"

"We've found hairs and fibers on the bodies. We don't have a primary crime scene as yet but he doesn't appear to care about evidence." Ryan paused glancing up as a frown gracing his face. "Unless he knows how to hide it, of course. Hairs had no tags and the fibers were a dead-end."

"He's aware," Joe mumbled again before raising his voice to a more audible level. "If you give me that last file, I should have enough to try and construct a profile." He smiled his thanks as Eric handed the papers over. "I may want to visit the freshest scene, if it's still secured."

"The latest is," Ryan said. "Mind if I tag along? This stuff's always fascinated me."

Joe chuckled. "Sure thing, let's go; you can show me to a room." As they exited together, he turned at the door. "Grab a drink later?" he called to Calleigh, smiling when she nodded her agreement.

Eric observed silently, noting the obvious ease into which the two fell. It took him all of thirty seconds before his curiosity got the better of him and he finally spoke up. "So, who's the guy?"

"AJ? He's an old family friend." Calleigh glanced up, rolling her eyes at the expression on his face. "A _friend_, Eric," she stressed. "Calm yourself."

"Why AJ?" he asked, wincing internally at the way he spat the name.

Again, he got the eye roll. "Alistair's his middle name. His grandpa called him it as a kid. AJ kinda came from there." Eric nodded and she leant over, laying her fingers on his hand gently. "Seriously, Eric, stop with the jealousy." She gave a soft squeeze. "It doesn't look good on you."

Eric gave a smile then, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss her lips. Their 'not at work' rule was working so far, but he felt that barrier in front of him all the time now, pressing against his chest as he pushed it as far as possible; wishing that rule would be flung out of the window along with several other things…

But he settled for a squeeze back, reminding himself of the weapon she carried at her hip. And he was about to speak, apologize or… something, when the pager at his waist gave a shrill beep. His eyes studied the screen, hand still buried under hers and sighed deeply as he took in the message on the screen. "Cal, we got another one."


	2. Two

_**Notes:** Again, major thanks have to go to **Kazalene **who saved me from falling into an abyss of grammatical malpractice and typos :)._

* * *

Chapter two

Horatio Caine replaced his sunglasses, embracing the twinge of relief when his eyes were finally shielded from the harsh Miami sun. "Alexx?" he asked, voice hard as the reality of the crime slammed into his consciousness. "Alexx, do we have a name yet?" Hands on hips, he turned, meeting the ME's eyes through his shades.

"Girls 'round here know her as Sandy Walker," Alexx murmured. "She's only young; I'd say late teens to early twenties." She glanced over to Calleigh and Joe. "Cause of death's the same as the others; throat slashed, and the antemortem cuts are consistent. No chance this is a copycat?"

Calleigh shook her head. "Details of the murders were never released. We kept his proficiency for carving into his victims out of the press; would have made 'Death of a Prostitute' into another Ripper tale."

Giving a soft nod, Alexx motioned for her haulers to take the body away, leaving the CSI to do her job while she tried to make sense of the details she could whittle out. Walking next to the body, she ensured the sheet shielded all of the victim's face from the flash of the photographer's cameras.

"I know I said I wanted to see a fresh scene, but this really isn't what I had in mind," Joe spat angrily, taking in the image of the slaughtered woman as she was wheeled away. The quiet parkland provided an eerily beautiful setting for the gruesome scene and he couldn't help the pang that hit his chest when he followed Alexx's gaze as she stopped at her van and watched children play innocently behind the onlookers. He'd known Doctor Alexx Woods when she was still training in New York; the case they'd worked back then rivaled their current one. The sheer coldness of the murder sent chills through the both of them.

"Let's," Horatio started, pulling out one white glove, "let's see what he left behind this time."

- - -

Just as before, the evidence gathered was minimal. No hairs were counted this time but the same blue cotton fibers were scatted over the victim. Their attention had to be turned to the body. With no family to question and highly uncooperative working girls, it was the only chance they had of finding links.

"A lot of rage behind this," Calleigh observed, taking in the vicious slashes on the woman's pale flesh. "Any way to tell when these cuts were made?" She pointed gingerly to the blood stained skin.

Alexx took in the sight, massaging the skin around the wounds with a gloved hand. "Before death. She bled out quite a bit; he kept her for some times before killing her."

"Is that consistent with the other victims?" Joe asked over the intercom. The three turned to glance up at the observations deck. Calleigh gave a soft internal chuckle, remembering his preference to remain outside of the autopsy bay whenever possible.

"Yeah, given the time the women were reported missing and the time they were found, I'd say he kept them for about 24 hours - give or take," Eric replied, glancing to Alexx for confirmation. "I don't wanna think about what he did to them."

Calleigh stiffened, feeling her heart squeeze involuntarily. "No sexual assault," she said quickly, covering her reaction. Alexx didn't notice and AJ was too far away, but she could _feel_ Eric's eyes on the side of her face.

It hadn't been long since her own kidnapping and tremors of the experience still ran deep within her. Images of the slain woman flashed through her mind, reminding her of what could have been. She felt sweat bead on her back, took a breath and flicked her eyes to Eric, silently asking him not to mention anything.

"Yeah, but it looks like they were physically tortured," Alexx said behind them. "X-Rays show fresh fractures around the wrists. That's probably why I wasn't able to find any DNA under the nails; poor baby was tied up."

Eric cleared his throat, tugging his gaze away from Calleigh's. "How's that profile coming along?" he called up to the deck.

"Got it," Joe replied holding up a manila folder. "Wanna gather your team?"

- - -

Handing out copies of the files to all present, Joe began recounting the key points of what he'd written. "Perp's a white male, between thirty-five and forty; either unemployed or works in a low ranked job. He doesn't feel important, doesn't feel he's impacting society or being noticed. By killing these women, he feels he's benefiting society in some way."

"Let me guess, his mom didn't hug him as a kid," Eric cut in, rolling his eyes at the stereotypical profile Joe seemed to have created. He ignored Calleigh's glare.

"Actually, it's probably the opposite. An oppressive parent can be just as damning. It's more likely his mother 'over-loved' him; continually making him prove his loyalty to her. You'd think killing these women would be a representation of killing his mother and, in a way, it is. Being continually over-bearing has led to hate, to fear - it's a very perverse relationship. Also, it's more likely than not that his father wasn't around." Joe paused, ensuring everyone was following his train of thought. He had a habit of making leaps of logic that others didn't follow. "What we're seeing through these crimes is sheer hatred towards women. It's possible that, while his mother loved him unconditionally, she was harsh with her punishments with regards to his sexual experiences."

"You saying our perp's gay?" Ryan cut in, genuinely interested.

"It's possible," Joe said with a nod. "Regardless of orientation, his mother would have disallowed all sexual contact and exploration right though his puberty. She was probably devoutly religious. Eventually, he came to associate sexual acts with evil and punishment through something called operant conditioning." Joe took a pause to write the term on the board beside him. "He's reliving the punishments his mother gave him when he kills these prostitutes."

"Every kill," Joe continued, his voice lowering as he delved further into the mind of the killer, "is a cry for help and attention; 'look at me. Look what she did.' He's doing what his mother wants, ultimately. She has such a complete control over him, he doesn't know how to function without her love and the punishments that go with that love."

"Is he aware that what he's doing is wrong?" Calleigh questioned, wondering if they were looking for a cold blooded killer, or a psychopathic man.

"Yes, most definitely. He's your characteristic psychopathic personality, which is not what it sounds - he's weak. Vulnerable. He is virtually unable to disobey an authority figure, even if he is fully aware of the consequences; that's why we see the bodies being covered, dumped in public places so they can be laid to rest quickly. He can't fight against his mother, but he's aware in himself that what he's doing is wrong. The fact that he keeps his victims for a period of time tells me that thought leaves his mind until after the murder; the punishment he inflicts is fine in his eyes, it's all he's known. But the murder, that goes further than his mother has. In a way he's trying to impress her."

This time, the question was fielded by a female patrol cop who was leaning against the wall at the back of the room. "How will we know when we've got him?"

Joe gave a cool laugh. "Stick a female authority figure in the room with him; he'll fold like cheap paper."

"How will your profile help us find him?" Horatio asked, ever intent on bringing criminals to justice.

"We'll have to do things a little backwards. Given the nature of the crimes, it's important to narrow down possible locations based on the crime scenes. All the victims were taken from the same area, and it's more than likely this area is close to his home. You're looking for someone who doesn't socialize. He won't go out to bars with friends, he'll speak only when spoken to and people will consider him polite, but a little strange. Like Ed Gein for those of you who know your prolific killers." Joe raised his eyebrows when Calleigh nodded in recognition of the name. "What I'm saying," he continued, "is that your evidence has to narrow it down, my profile has to identify and you guys have to secure the evidence against him. No one method will work in this case."

As Joe replaced the cap on his pen, the people in the room began to disperse and the group's talk was eagerly focused on the details of the profile they'd just received. Joe held up a hand to stop them. "Remember, no matter what I've said, this guy is dangerous. He's fiercely loyal to his mother, regardless of how much he hates her. Be careful."

- - -

The hustle and bustle of the bar was curiously hypnotic. Clinking glasses and flirtatious laughter punctuated through the soft jazz music, adding to the warm and welcoming atmosphere.

"So, how's life been treating you?" Joe asked over his glass, effectively ending their discussion of his new research project. She knew he didn't want to talk shop. She was still laughing internally at the memoirs of their childhood they'd recounted; she didn't remember half of the things and she was sure she'd not embarrassed herself as often as he'd claimed.

Sat at the bar, Calleigh leaned on the countertop using an arm to prop herself up with. She sipped her cocktail though a straw, frowning exaggeratedly as she mulled over his question. "Life's been pretty kind," she finally drawled.

"New man?" he pressed, casting his eyes to hers. He watched her frown deepen and continued quickly, certain she was on to him. "You seem really happy."

Calleigh broke into a smile. "I am," she replied, refusing to give him the answer he wanted. She knew AJ well enough to know when he was fishing. He was a good psychiatrist - he could figure things out about people that they themselves probably didn't know - but Calleigh knew him personally. She caught on quickly to his ulterior motives. "What do you want to know?" she finally conceded, giving into his penetrating gaze.

Joe gave a cocky smirk. "I'm guessing your boss doesn't know?" he said with a waggle of his eyebrows. Ignoring her glare he gave her a wink. "Its kinda obvious Calleigh-wag. You two can't keep your eyes off each other."

She dropped her gaze, giving her drink a stir with the straw. Suddenly twirling the umbrella on the lemon was incredibly captivating. "Really?" she asked, and he caught the hint of fear behind her question.

"Really." Joe moved his hand, poking her gently in the side. "But if he hurts you, I'll kill him." His voice was curiously dark, sincerity coloring every syllable.

She studied him for a moment, before deciding that not responding would be the best option. "So, how's Aimee?" she asked, deliberately changing the topic.

Joe's face broke into a smile. He dug around in his pockets, pulling out his wallet to retrieve a picture. Handing it to her he said, "she's nearly six now."

Studying the photo in front of her, Calleigh let a soft smile play on her lips as she took in the vision of Joe nestled on a big chair, her daughter snuggled into his side. Aimee had inherited her mother's beauty - that was evident - but the eyes, those came from her father. Calleigh tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy that reverberated through her chest, but her smile must have slipped because his fingers were suddenly on her chin.

His eyes formed a question, and the silent shake of her head answered it - she wasn't even close. Children was not something she'd discussed with Eric, they'd not even gone through the 'moving in' talk; it'd just unofficially happened. They'd been 'dating' for three months - though it was hard to quantify when their relationship actually started. In her opinion, they'd been having an emotional love affair for years; now it was real, and she sometimes lost herself in that.

That was what scared Calleigh the most, how much she trusted him, how much of herself she was willing to expose. She never thought it would be like this. Despite the trust, how serious their relationship was had never been discussed, the future had never been brought up. Eric was too polite to mention it and she'd never bring it up; even together, old habits die hard.

Finding Joe's eyes again she shook her head once more; this time to clear it. He gave her the raised eyebrows again, the ones that demanded explanation.

Ever stubborn, she gave none.

Instead, she chose to change the subject. "You know I'm gonna ask about her."

Joe winced comically. "Ahh, you mean the effervescent cyclone that is my ex?" Calleigh nodded in the affirmative, a large smile gracing her features. "She's good," he stated simply, hoping Calleigh would let it go.

He should have known better.

"You talked to her yet?" He gave the mock innocent look. "From your emails, AJ, I gather a rather long conversation with Larissa is on the horizon." She sipped her drink, bobbing an ice cube up and down with her straw.

"Yeah, a talk or… something," he muttered, irritation at his own incapabilities leeching through. It was so damn difficult. He knew he still loved her and the psychiatrist in him told him the longer he put the conversation off the harder it would be. But things were convoluted. She'd moved back to Russia, he was too tied to his job; they had a child in the mix. "It's complicated," he finally stated.

Calleigh could do nothing but nod, knowing anything she came out with would be highly hypocritical; she was the queen of omission. "We should head off," he drawled, draining his glass. "Got a bad guy to catch in the morning."

She swallowed the rest of her own drink and was reaching for her purse when he stopped her with a hand. "My treat," he said with a genuine smile. Calleigh matched it, slipping the picture of Aimee back into the folds of his wallet as he pulled out some cash.

"Thanks AJ," she said around a yawn, only realizing the late hour when she rose and caught sight of the clock. She pulled him into a hug, squeezed him tightly, and promised to call him when she got home safely.

- - -

Setting the phone down, Calleigh tiptoed down her corridor, trying not to wake Eric. She was in the bathroom, having changed for bed, silently brushing her teeth when a voice behind her interrupted her.

"It's after midnight." She jumped, dropping the toothbrush, a hand flying to her chest.

"Eric!" she hissed. "You terrified me!" After quickly rinsing her mouth, she turned to give him a glare. Her face softened when she saw the insecurity in his eyes. "Eric," she said, voice softer now, "what's wrong?"

Eric gave a sigh, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a hand. "Nothing," he muttered, frowning deeply.

Reaching up, Calleigh smoothed out the lines, trailing her fingers to brush over his lips before she replaced them with her own in a light kiss. He still gave no further response, and the fatigue was catching up with her, making her muscles weary; so she tugged his hand, pulling him out of the bathroom and into their bed, settling her head on his chest. "Eric," she pressed.

"I'm scared of losing you," he blurted, and the silence that encased them could only be described as intense. She felt her gut clench and immediately rolled off him, propping herself up to look at his face. Opening her mouth to speak, she was immediately cut off. "I trust you, Cal, you know I do… I just…" Eric brushed a strand of hair off her face. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," she replied, shaking her head.

He kissed her anyway, twice on the lips and once on the tip of her nose before meeting her eyes again. "About today…"

This time Calleigh did tense. "Let it go," she requested.

"No," he stated simply. "It's only natural for you to be remembering it Calleigh. I know I am." He laced his fingers gently with hers. "I know I felt that moment of panic when I saw her; I remembered. Don't tell me you didn't."

"I did," Calleigh said, darkly. "I did, and I want to forget it now… okay?" She met his eyes, silently asking him not to push it. Eric gave a sigh, finally conceding. He pulled her in, kissing her one final time before settling himself on the pillows. "'Night," she murmured, kissing his chest softly.

"Night babe." Eric placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair; content, at least for now, to hold her safely in his arms.


	3. Three

_Thanks as usual to the a-dork-able** kazalene** for helping me with this. I'm just gonna dedicate the entire story to her- she's saved me so many times. _

* * *

Chapter three

Feather-light kisses peppered over his chest woke Eric from him dreams. He glanced down, watching the blond head meander slowly across his chest; lips, barley pressing onto his skin, leaving shivers in their wake. Eric let out a soft moan, the combination of her lips and the soft trailing of her hair rousing him into consciousness.

"Mmm, morning," he mumbled sleepily, grinning when he felt her smile against his skin. Reaching down, he tugged her gently by her shoulder, pulling her up until her nose grazed his. "Morning," he repeated, kissing her chin softly. He saw her smile this time and could no longer resist kissing it away. "It's early," Eric commented, casting his eyes to the clock. They had a good hour before they were needed in.

"I know," she stated coyly, her emerald orbs flashing despite the early hour. Her fingertips grazed his chest, nails scratching where kisses had just soothed; the contrast was overwhelming. _She_ was overwhelming. He gave a soft sigh, gladly giving in to her silent demands.

She was still nestled safely in his arms, both legs between his. Neither could sleep properly without being close to the other and it was strange, because although Eric had always been a fan of cuddling in bed, Calleigh hadn't. She usually preferred space - one side of the bed to call her own. With Eric, it was perhaps the fact she had been starved of his touch for so long that made her crave near constant contact with him at night.

Neither complained.

Especially when Calleigh bit down on his neck, evoking a loud moan. She pouted when he eventually sat up, pushing her back and flipping her over. "You shouldn't rush morning sex," he told her plainly, his nose pressing against hers, before he mimicked her actions and nipped the soft skin above her pulse. He chuckled at her moan; despite how controlled she tried to stay, he knew exactly where to touch to drive her wild.

He teased her gently, lightly grazing his hand over her thigh as he kissed lower, savoring the taste of her sleepy skin. Feeling her nails dig into his shoulder, he knew he was hitting the right spot. He didn't even have to glance up, he knew what he'd see: Calleigh with her head thrown back against the pillow, biting on her lip hard enough to draw blood _just_ so she could keep that one ounce of control he would soon drive from her. She was predictable despite her hatred of it. He knew her.

His teeth were teasing her collar bone, hand smoothing up her sinuous leg when a shrill beeping distracted the pair of them.

Calleigh groaned, this time out of irritation, and quickly flipped over to answer her cell on the nightstand. "Duquesne," she stated, focusing steadying her breathing. The fact that Eric's hand was still on her leg was not helping. "Ryan, hey," she continued, frowning as Eric gave an eye roll. "What's up?" Eric squeezed her thigh gently, and she shot him a glare. "When?" Listening intently, she let her muscles relax from their state of arousal, only to feel them tense moments later with adrenaline. Eric pressed on, leaning towards her to trail kisses down her neck; she stopped him with a hand, pressing two fingers to his lips. "Yeah, we - I'll be right there," she said, catching her error quickly enough for him not to notice.

Hanging up, she took her fingers from his face. "Another victim?" Eric asked, sensing her mood.

Calleigh gave a nod, her frown intensifying. Eric's hand found hers, his eyes forming a question. Breathing deeply, she glanced up to him. "Eric, she's still alive."

- - -

Black latex covered legs aside, the woman was rather beautiful. Ignoring the deep cut to the face and the poor choice of outfit, she looked like any other young woman - one wouldn't have guessed her profession.

"What happened, Sara?" Ryan asked, his eyes firmly kept to her face, gaze averted from the red bustier she amply filled.

Sara winced in pain as she adjusted herself on the hospital bed. The cut on her face stitched, she was free to leave once she'd spoken to the police. "I don't remember what he looked like," she started, tone impervious, intent on making that point clear right away. "I got in his car; it was white, a Sedan, old. He drove around a while, I just figured he'd stop when he found a good place. That's when I saw the knife." She paused, sucking in a breath. "Look, I've been over this with the other officers, do I have to…"

Ryan gave a sympathetic smile. "Sara, the more information we have, the sooner we can stop him from hurting someone else." He waited for her to nod her agreement. "What happened when you saw the knife?"

"I been watchin' the news, you know, I ain't stupid. Ever since that first girl got killed we all been carrying knives… for protection." Her North Eastern accent was thickening as she became more agitated. "Anyways, when he stopped the car, I pulled mine out. I thought I could just threaten him away, you know, but he went to slash me, got my face. So I just stabbed at him and ran."

"Still got the knife?" Ryan asked, brows pulled together in thought.

Sara nodded. "Yeah, the EMT staff took it."

"Thank you; are you okay to get home, or would you like a ride with patrol?" Ryan queried, making a mental note to hunt down the EMT crew.

Sara shook her head, stating, "I gotta friend coming."

Ryan placed a supportive hand on her shoulder, nodding for Natalia to check her for trace evidence as he waited outside. The red head entered, casting her eyes down as the woman removed her top and placed it into an evidence bag.

- - -

Just as Ryan exited the hospital, he caught sight of Calleigh entering the ER with Eric. He walked over, clutching the brown evidence bag tightly, the sides of his suit jacket flapping with the force of his steps. "Hey, guys."

"How is she?" Calleigh asked immediately, concern for the victim evident in her eyes.

"Shaken, but she'll be okay," he replied. "Got the perp's DNA though, she managed to get a slash at him." Ryan held up the evidence bag containing a knife holder. "Hopefully he's in the system. But going off your friends profile, it's unlikely he'll have been arrested for anything. Where is the mastermind, anyway?"

Calleigh rolled her eyes. "Back at the lab. We should take that in," she said, gesturing to the bag, determined to find something as soon as possible.

-/-

Once she was back at the lab, Calleigh immediately headed for Valera's station. She stared intently as Valera systematically swabbed the knife's blade in several locations, removing the handle to sample underneath. Cutting the tips off each swab, The technician placed each of the samples into a micro test tube, added the appropriate primers and reagents and sealed the lids, marking each one before she placed them into the centrifuge. Valera ignored Calleigh's first sigh, and her second, shot her a glare on the third and finally snapped on the forth. "Calleigh, I can't rush anymore, okay? The machine will spin until it's done," she said with a sigh of her own.

"I know, I know," Calleigh quickly replied, unconsciously taking a step back. Her eyes found Eric's and she rolled her eyes at his concerned gaze. All she wanted to do was find the killer - she couldn't comprehend why it was suddenly a big deal that she was dedicated to a case. "Ryan still at the hospital?" she asked, diverting the attention away from herself.

Eric nodded softly. "Yeah, he's with Natalia. Wants to see if the girl can remember anything else before she leaves." His eyes probed Calleigh's face, attempting to regain eye-contact with her; but, as usual, she repudiated, refusing to give him the one thing that would allow him to see how she was truly feeling. He knew she was shaken, that was clear, but he didn't know to what extent the case was affecting her, and that spooked him. Over the last few months he'd gotten used to Calleigh being honest with him, to her being herself around him without any masks. And the fact that she was hiding from him now told him more than her words probably could.

He was about to question her further, but he was cut off by the arrival of the tall, dark and incredibly handsome man that had torpedoed into his life all of two days ago.

"Howdy," Joe drawled. "Heard we got a live one. She talkin'?" he asked, throwing a file containing loose sheets down on the side.

Calleigh nodded in the affirmative. "Yeah, Ryan's with her now. We got a knife off her - she stabbed at him when he tried to attack her." Calleigh paused, casting her eyes to the weapon. "She was lucky," she murmured quietly, vision drawn to the soft glint of the blade marred by blood stains.

"What's up with you?" Joe asked, evoking a frown from Eric. Annoyance that Joe felt he had the right to ask her that question when he was too scared to ask it himself lit liquid fire in Eric's blood.

Giving a soft shake of her head, Calleigh said, "I just know what those girls have been though. Not entirely," she added, catching Joe's questioning glance, "but I can relate."

Eric felt a compelling need to cut in, to remind… someone… anyone that he could still communicate with her. "Calleigh, if you're struggling with this case, you should step back."

"I'm fine," she immediately retorted, turning to face Valera once again. "How's it comin'?" she asked, her accent thickening with her emotions, foot tapping impatiently. She got no verbal response, just another glare from the lab-tech that told her to either wait patiently or leave.

Calleigh chose the latter.

"What's up with her today?" Valera asked, casting a puzzled glance in the direction of the fleeing blond.

Eric shrugged. "No idea," he lied, feeling Joe's eyes burning into the side of his face. "I'm, erm, I'm gonna go do a thing," he said vaguely, excusing himself from the room. "Page me?" he called to Valera, receiving a nod in response.

Shaking his head slightly, Joe turned back to the lab-tech before him. "Joe Donahue," he introduced himself, smiling widely at her as she worked.

"Maxine Valera," she reciprocated, casting a flirtatious smile his way as she continued with her reports. The machine next to her was slowing down, and she glanced over to it and, noting the cycles left, placed her pen down. "Results will be here in a jiffy."

"Great," he responded, his ego taking a little boost from her flirting. He observed silently as she printed off a page, clicking a few buttons on the machine, and collecting another. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"Richard Clayton, address just off Miller Road," Valera told him. "I'll page Calleigh."

"He's in the system?" Joe asked, a little surprised. His profile had indicated that their killer was unlikely to have a record.

Valera studied the paper intently. "He was twenty, cut his arm on a window as he…" She paused, reading more details. "As he was trying to look into a girls window." She glanced to Joe, eyes wide with concern. "He's had victims before?"

"It's unlikely. Peeping windows was the start. He's escalated to homicide," Joe informed her. "Page Calleigh."

- - -

Calleigh found Horatio leaning against the wall of her lab. He studied her silently as she tidied folders, casting curious glances his way as she tried to work out what he wanted.

"Is DNA in yet?" he finally asked, pushing off the wall and moving in front of her, eyes crinkled slightly in concern at her tense muscles.

"Valera's working on it," she stated. "Eric said he would page us with the results." So that was a lie, but she felt somewhat better convincing herself things were still normal.

The lieutenant tilted his head to the left, gazing intently her way. "How are you handling the case?"

Her eyes shot to his. "What do you mean, 'how am I handling it'?" Her voice was strained, and Horatio's eyes crinkled further with worry. "I'm fine." She raised her eyes, frowning in realization as Horatio gave a tight smile. "What's Eric said?"

"He's worried about you and quite frankly, so am I," he replied, taking a step towards her.

Ignoring the burning anger she felt rise within her, Calleigh smiled sweetly. "I'm fine, Horatio, really. But thank you for your concern," she drawled, smile widening with each passing pulse.

Horatio studied her for a moment, as though trying to work out her real intentions. Finally accepting her answer he said, "my door is always open, ma'am."

"I know," she responded, only dropping the smile from her face when Horatio had retreated from the room. Calleigh sighed in irritation, the anger didn't ebb; instead it grew in intensity as she played the facts over in her mind.

Rising from her seat, she walked through the lab, hunting in each room she came across until her eyes fell on Eric Delko. He looked up, straightening his back as he noted the signs of her anger.

"What the hell did you do?" she started, shutting the door of the glass lab behind her, hoping to cover their words. Calleigh's muscles were tight as her body contained her annoyance, fearful of people noticing. When he didn't speak she continued, "I can't believe you told Horatio I was struggling with the case!" Her volume rose with each word as he shook his head in defense.

"I was just concerned about you, Calleigh," he justified. "I mentioned it in passing, I didn't go to Horatio." He could understand his own logic, but the fire burning in her eyes told him she did not.

Running a hand through her hair she blinked rapidly, trying to maintain her control. "It doesn't matter, I don't like to be undermined, especially not in front of my boss," she stressed bitterly. "I can't believe you did it."

Eric sighed. "I knew you weren't handling things well, I was just trying to help," he said honestly.

"I don't need you looking over my shoulder all the time, Eric. I can take care of myself."

"What, like you did when Seth took you?" he spat, and instantly regretted it. "Shit, I'm sorry Cal, I didn't mean that."

She glared icily at him. "Eric, if you can't trust me, it's time to get yourself a new partner," she retorted, just as angrily. As her pager beeped, she cast her eyes down. "In more ways than one," she added, replying to the page, giving him no chance to respond as she left him alone in the lab.


	4. Four

_AN: Sorry for the delay I had some things. This may be the last update until I get back from Africa in Augut... depending on how my muse is feeling. _

_Y'all need to give **Kazalene** a big squishy hug for this; she's my superstar._

* * *

Angrily punching the address she'd gotten off Valera into the satellite navigation machine, Calleigh played the conversation between herself and Eric over and over in her mind as she drove from the lab. She knew he was right. The case had affected her more then she cared to admit, but the fear she felt knowing an outside force was having that much control over her was overwhelming. She felt… isolated.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't right that she had to live this way; with every little thing sending her thoughts catapulting back to those dark times. She shouldn't have to deal with it - no one should. But Eric made it okay for her. He allowed her to be vulnerable without fear of judgment. Eric gave her reason to think of the things she had gained, rather than what she had lost. And it wasn't just the physical things -- though that was definitely a plus -- the emotional upheaval had allowed her to gain a greater understanding of herself. Through her kidnapping, she'd learned an understanding of the world most couldn't begin to comprehend.

It was strange how something so terrible could have impacted her life in such a positive way.

Yet that knowledge didn't stop her anger. It didn't stop the disappointment she felt for herself when he made her feel so incapable. Calleigh knew that if she and Eric weren't together, she'd still be angry – but no where near the capacity she held now, knowing there were so many things she just couldn't face. He'd let her down. The anger at that bubbled beneath the surface, clouding her vision and spreading an annoyed flush across her chest.

Approaching the street, she pulled out her pager and quickly sent the address first to Horatio, and then to Eric. As an after thought, she called for back up. Cursing for letting herself get so distracted, she stepped from the car, shutting the door quietly behind her.

-/-

Glancing once more through the front window of the house, Calleigh considered holding back to wait for back up and a warrant. She had no reason to enter the house alone, and wasn't wiling to risk whatever evidence she'd potentially find in there by conducting an illegal search. But as she stepped away from the door, her eyes were called to the ground, a slight glint of something metallic on the doorstep catching her gaze.

A silver bracelet. Another victim.

Calleigh's heart stopped suddenly. Moving silently back to the door, she paused again, thinking about her next move. If she waited for backup, the woman may be killed – she didn't know how long he'd had the victim for. But if she went in alone... would he snap? Noticing a long, narrow window on one side of the porch, she knelt down and peered under the white net curtains at the hallway within.

Small drops of blood graced the floors, the occasional smear filling Calleigh with hope that the woman was still alive. Without thinking, she rose and kicked through the weakly locked door, pulling her weapon free as she did so. She followed the blood-drops quickly, knowing the killer would have heard her entrance, and paused only momentarily at the door of what appeared to be a basement.

Breathing deeply, she opened it and, after a first tentative step, she gingerly began her descent into the basement.

- - -

Horatio strode purposefully down the corridor, his eyes landing on the man he was searching out. "Eric," he called, pausing as the Cuban glanced up from his pager. "We've got the address," he informed, punching the button for the elevator.

"Calleigh on her way there?" Eric asked, replacing his pager at his hip and following his boss through the metal doors.

"Actually," Horatio paused, placing his sunglasses onto his shirt and turning his head slightly, "actually, she's already there."

"What?" Eric asked as the sliding panels closed, worry gripping at his chest. The memories of the last time Calleigh attended a crime scene alone played on a loop through his mind. He sped up his footsteps, slipping quickly into the passenger seat once Horatio unlocked the Hummer. "H, why'd she go alone?"

Turning on the engine and pulling swiftly out of the garage, Horatio gave a one-shouldered shrug. "She got the address, she ran with it," he stated. "MDPD's on their way to the scene, we should arrive about the same time," he clarified, catching Eric's concerned tone.

"Yeah," Eric muttered distractedly, his eyes trained on the road as his mind focused solely on Calleigh's safety.

- - -

Raising her weapon at the man before her, Calleigh spoke with conviction. "Put the gun down, Mr. Clayton," she ordered, keeping her aim steady on his face; or at least as much as she could, given the position of the woman he was using as a shield. The florescent bulb didn't help either, causing the dirt on the white walls to become overly sharp, and she found herself squinting a little. Various shelves adorned the walls, but she couldn't focus on their contents while the situation was so tense.

Richard Clayton shook his head, his hand gripping the barrel of his own gun tighter as he tried to hide the trembling that raked through his body. "You need to go now," he said to her, voice curiously high pitched. "You can't be here."

Calleigh let her eyes fall downwards, meeting the terrified gaze of the kneeling woman. Quickly scanning her body to check for life threatening injuries, she gave the woman a tight nod, silently letting her know she wasn't going to let him hurt her any more then he had. Still squinting slightly, Calleigh noted the safety snap on Richard's weapon was indeed unlocked, and her hope that he wouldn't know how to work one went flying out of the window; he'd never used one in a killing before, why now?

"It's over, Richard," she tried, lowering her voice as she recalled Joe's words. If he'd be intimidated by a 'female authority figure' then Calleigh would do everything in her power to move away from that. The last thing she needed was to scare him into firing rounds. "You're not walking out of here, Richard, so why don't you put down the gun, let her go and you and I can talk this through." Her words were soft and, for a moment, she thought she'd got through to him. His eyes fell on hers and his lower lip began to tremble.

But suddenly, Calleigh's pager gave a shrill beep from her hip.

Richard's eyes widened. "No, no, no, no," he murmured quietly to himself. "No, she'll get mad; she'll get mad."

"Who'll get mad?" Calleigh asked, already knowing the answer. Richard's eyes filled with tears and he frowned, shifting on his feet like a scolded child. She recognized the signs of the mentally unwell. Though most of Joe's 'work talk' went straight over her head, she had tuned into to some parts and now, as she saw a real life example of his case studies, she felt an overwhelming sense of uncertainty flood her body.

Richard tightened his grip on the weapon, pushing the barrel further into the crying woman's head. "You have to be quiet," he whispered, "or she'll punish you, too." He paused, glancing to the window as the approaching sirens grew loud enough to hear. Calleigh took the opportunity to step closer, casting the woman a reassuring glance, hoping that backup would hurry. She didn't know how long she could stall him; the slightest thing could trigger him into killing.

She observed as he raised a hand to his forehead and rubbed it harshly, muttering words to himself as he got more and more worked up. His posture changed before her eyes, becoming more closed in as each passing beat of the sirens grew in volume; the realization that his activities could soon be brought to a halt sending bolts of anger through him. Once again, Calleigh recognized the signs; Richard's intensifying frown and increasing pacing telling her he was fast loosing control of the tiny shreds he had left.

"She's gonna get so mad," he stressed, no longer meeting Calleigh's eyes.

"Fight her," Calleigh replied, trying a different technique this time. "Richard, don't let her control you anymore. I know what you went through." It was a lie, but it got his attention; she only knew he had a bad relationship with his mother. She still wasn't aware if she was alive or not but if she was dead, she couldn't physically manipulate him anymore. Calleigh adjusted her tone, setting it as caring and motherly as she could – her first mistake. "I know you're stronger than she is. Don't let her beat out again."

Richard's eyes snapped to hers as he glared at her from an angle. "You think you know me so well," he mocked, and it was clear to Calleigh that he was no longer talking to himself. "Got me all figured out? Try me." He removed the gun from the woman's head allowing Calleigh to re-level her aim on his now free chest.

Suddenly, Richard turned to face her directly. He gave a sardonic laugh as he held his gun out in front of him. "You think this is loaded?" he asked, pulling his lips back in a cruel sneer. "I don't got no bullets." His total personality change threw her off, and she wasn't sure how to read him. Was he lying? Did he even know what was fact and what was fabrication? "It ain't loaded," he reiterated, his eyes now a cool shade of grey.

Calleigh winced at his anger, the complete contrast to his prior nervous tone hitting her like a slap in the face. "Try me," he repeated again, his breath coming out in pants as his eyes resumed flickering towards the window, ever mindful of the sirens outside. Calleigh tensed as she watched him cock the gun, pressing the barrel back to the kneeling woman's head.

As two shots echoed through the building, Calleigh barely blinked.

- - -

"MDPD!" several voices shouted into the small room, armed officers descending the stairs into the room. They surrounded the body on the floor and, after securing the suspect's weapon, they declared the area clear. As they pulled the sobbing woman to the side, Horatio and Eric followed quickly; the former moving swiftly to the victim to gauge her status.

Calleigh kept her eyes on the body on the floor. Though she'd hit the stomach in an attempt to keep him alive, it was clear that Richard Clayton was dead. By her hands. She followed the officer's movements as one pulled the gun apart, feeling a bolt of apprehension as his eyes shot to hers. "It's not loaded," he stated, a note of surprise wavering his tone.

She let her eyes fall shut, a wave of emotion flooding through her as she realized, no, he hadn't lied. He wasn't testing to see how far he could push her. He was telling the truth and she'd killed him for it. Telling herself he was a murderer wasn't helping much as the memories of their final moments played behind her eyelids. He was ill; he needed help and, instead of getting him that help, she'd killed him. "He told me," she murmured, wincing as she felt Eric move behind her. "He told me it wasn't loaded and I... I just..."

Eric felt his heart clench once more at her words; he was ever familiar with Calleigh's guilt and her tendency to blame herself for things beyond her control. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, hoping to convince her he was still there for her, despite their argument.

As his hand hit her shoulder, Calleigh stiffened, twisting around to face him with blazing eyes. "You," she stated icily, "you stay away from me." With that, she turned on her heel and handed over her weapon as evidence to the waiting patrol officer before ascending the stairs, her limbs still shaking uncontrollably with anger and adrenaline.

Eric stood silently as he watched her leave, tremors of confusion reverberating in his stomach. He'd not expected total rejection. Some anger or distress, yes; but her actions hit him like a slap in the face. He had little time to mull it over, however, as Horatio approached him, determination written on every line of his face.

"Eric, get your kit," Horatio ordered. "I want every fibre in this place taken to the lab."

Eric nodded. "Sure thing, boss."

- - -

"Yo, college girl," Joe announced as he wandered into the break room, a large cup of steaming coffee in his hands. "For you," he stated, placing the cup in front of Calleigh with a flourish.

He watched as she gave a soft smile, before bringing the cup to her lips and sipping the hot fluid. But when she gave no other response, Joe's senses immediately went into overdrive. "Talk to me, girl," he said, lowering his voice in such a 'therapist' way he almost cringed.

"I talked to you," she retorted.

Joe smiled, shaking his head at her behavior. "Facts aren't emotions, Calleigh. You gotta talk about it someday. Your IAB office is gonna want a report."

She didn't look at him, simply breathed deeply and shot it out quickly. "Why did he tell me the gun wasn't loaded?" she asked bitterly, all semblance of her fear and nausea replaced with anger and guilt.

Joe pondered that for a moment, playing various lectures and textbook extracts over in his mind. Did he have an answer? He had various explanations, but he didn't think any would suffice. Still, he gave it a go. "He was sick, Calleigh," he stated. "It was suicide, he knew you'd have no choice. But the fact he told you the gun wasn't loaded tells me he's incapable of taking responsibility for his actions; he could never 'kill himself' because he couldn't face the responsibility of taking his own life. In making you do it, he's placed the blame elsewhere." Catching her unconvinced glance, he changed direction. "You understand Freud's defence mechanisms, right? He's classic level three, pushing into levels two and one. In the case of his final death, what you saw was displacement; the casting off -- or redirection -- of unacceptable urges onto another being. In him, his anger at himself and his mother was redirected onto you, thus pushing you into conducting the act he wanted to conduct himself."

"So he manipulated me?" Calleigh asked, a touch of indignation coloring her tone.

"Despite being socially inept, people like him are generally very good at picking out weaknesses in others and using them to their advantage. From what you told me about his behaviours, I'd classify him as I stated in my profile - possibly a little more severe. He's not just a psychopathic personality, he's almost completely unable to distinguish adequately between his own pseudo-intentions and reality. Most males will follow their childhood abuse with the further abuse of drugs or alcohol. He didn't do that; instead he let the overwhelming fear of being around people, specifically women, take control of him and that blurred those lines of reality even further."

Calleigh nodded, realization of what she had seen dawning on her. "His voice changed," she said simply, continuing when Joe cast her a questioning glance. "I was talking to him, and his voice -- his pronunciation -- changed. His pitch went higher; like a child's."

"Regressive behavior," Joe stated, nodding tightly. "Once the present situation becomes too difficult for a person to handle, he reverts back to his childhood, when things were simpler and there was less responsibility. It happens mildly in everyday life. You're doing it right now" He stopped, pointing his finger towards her left hand. "A nervous response; you're feeling uncomfortable so you're nibbling your thumb. You did it all the time as a kid." Joe gave a soft chuckle as she self-consciously pulled her hand away, setting it back on the table. "That's what Richard was doing, just on a grander scale."

"Makes sense, in a way," Calleigh sighed. "I just wish... I wish I'd not killed him, AJ... I mean, he was ill; he needed help." She ran her fingers through her hair, flicking her eyes to Joe's when he reached out a hand to stop her movements.

"Cal, you have to understand that no matter how sick he was, he'd have gone on killing. You know about distortion. You understand Richard grossly reshaped his external reality to meet his own twisted internal needs. You know he couldn't fight that. He wouldn't stop."

"But he lost his right to psychiatric help because of me. Someone should have helped him. Yes, he did terrible things, but does that mean he should have died rather than receiving the help he needed?" Calleigh asked, unsure of the answers herself. And unable to focus on the line of conversation any longer she pushed back her chair, stalking out of the room with her arms wrapped protectively around herself.

"Cal?" Joe called, sighing deeply as he received no response. Disheartened, he reclined in his chair, the pain Calleigh was going through increasing his heartbeat slightly. Doing the only thing he knew would calm his nerves, Joe flipped open his cell, glancing at the clock to calculate the time as he dialled his daughter's number.


End file.
